


Coq Au Vin

by Makani



Series: The Kinks Of Love [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, maybe a little bit of angst, mention of BDSM, no porn in here people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makani/pseuds/Makani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John discussing their sexual kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coq Au Vin

About a week after Sherlock’s and his relationship status had changed from platonic to romantic, Sherlock had brought it up over breakfast. He hadn’t even looked at John, just branched the topic as if it were the most natural table conversation. As if he’d made a statement about the weather.

“So you like being dominated then?”

John nearly choked on his toast. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that much, considering he had the most observant lover in the world, but based on how long it had taken Sherlock to work out he was in love with John, he’d felt that his secret was safe for at least a little while longer. Apparently not…

When John was still sputtering and trying to figure out a suitable response after a few moments, Sherlock arched an eyebrow and looked up from his newspaper with a slightly puzzled look.

“Am I wrong?”

With an effort, John pulled himself together.

“No, no you are not wrong.” he’d mumbled, blushing furiously. All of a sudden it was impossible to meet Sherlock’s inquisitive gaze so he looked away, out of the window.

It was a sunny day, not a cloud in sight. Not really a common sight in London. He wondered if he’d need a jumper for work or if he’d be warm enough in a t-shirt. And yes, he was very aware that his contemplation of the weather was him trying to avoid the topic Sherlock had brought up, but he couldn’t help it. This sort of talk was supposed to happen in the afterglow of a good shag, lying side by side in bed, not sitting in the bright morning sunlight over breakfast. But then, after sex cuddles never really happened with Sherlock. And that was ok, he had known Sherlock wouldn’t be the cuddly type, but it made talking about relationship issues rather awkward in his opinion.

He jumped slightly when he felt fingers weaving through his hair, massaging his scalp gently.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, John. I just thought we should talk about it.” Sherlock’s voice purred next to his ear.

John felt himself lean into the touch. He hadn’t realised how much he needed the comfort right now. Apparently the detective had deduced it before John had even known it himself. This, of course, was one of the major upsides of having an observant lover like Sherlock. He allowed himself a small smile. 

“Sherlock, could we discuss this tonight? I need to go to work soon and I’d rather not have to rush this particular talk. Also…” he hesitated for a moment wondering if he should say it out loud. But then it could never be said that John Watson wasn’t a brave man, so he ploughed on. “I think I may need to be in your arms when we talk about this. This... This side of myself makes me very vulnerable. And I need to feel safe in order to share it.” 

He looked up at Sherlock to gauge his reaction. His lover met his eyes as if searching for an important clue. 

“That seems reasonable. Tonight then.”

And apparently that was the end of the discussion.

 

\--------------

 

It will come as no surprise that John wasn’t really able to concentrate on his work very much that day. His mind kept drifting to the impending conversation he was going to have with Sherlock in the evening.

Secretly, he wondered if he’d made the right choice when he postponed their talk. Had they just talked about it in the morning, his lover wouldn’t have had sufficient time to grill him about the details. As it was, he’d have plenty of time to force John to admit to every hidden fantasy, every forbidden desire he’d ever had. The thought made something in his stomach flutter nervously. 

It wasn’t as if he wanted to keep things from Sherlock. But there were some fantasies that he had trouble admitting to himself even. Surely, it wasn’t normal to want these things, was it? What if Sherlock got horrified, or even disgusted with him and told him to leave. He couldn’t bear that thought, not after all they’d been through together.

And yet he wondered if the alternative might not be even worse. What if Sherlock actually liked the thought of dominating him? It was one thing to fantasise, but he had never actually tried any of it. Of course, he’d had the odd girlfriend who would tie him up with silk scarves and tickle him for a bit, but he could hardly imagine Sherlock doing that. If they decided to try this, he knew that his lover would insist on doing things properly. And properly meant that his love life would get a hell of a lot scarier. 

 

\--------

 

After work, John decided to walk home instead of taking the tube or hailing a cab. He knew it was somewhat childish, because procrastination wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but he was scared. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was bloody terrified of having to face Sherlock, being under his scrutiny while trying to voice secrets he had never shared with anybody else. 

And much as he loved his genius flatmate, the detective wasn’t really known for his tact. He might have picked up on John’s distress in the morning but that was no guarantee he would notice it again. Besides, if he got frustrated with John, which the doctor was sure he would (once the pauses started to get longer and filled with more awkwardness) this conversation could easily turn quite hurtful.

As he reached the door of their building, John paused another moment. Steeling himself and exhaling a deep breath, he pushed open the door and walked up the 17 steps to their flat. 

The moment he opened the door, he heard Sherlock shouting “John! You’re late!” out of the kitchen. His voice sounded reproachful and John sighed. Of course the detective would be ready to pounce the moment he walked into the flat.

He shuffled towards the kitchen and stopped, his jaw slackening in amazement. The experiments that normally crowded the kitchen table were gone, instead the table was set for the two of them and even had a candle in the middle. There were folded napkins for crying out loud. What had happened? 

But even that was only mildly curious compared to his flatmate and lover standing over the cooker in an apron of all things. He was waving a wooden spoon as if he was a conductor and gestured towards one of the chairs. 

“Sit, John, dinner is ready. More than ready actually, I’ve had it simmering for ages, waiting for you to arrive”

John couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. 

“What’s so funny? If this dinner is completely overcooked I’m holding you personally responsible!”

This statement only made John giggle even more hysterically. The tension that had been in his body since their conversation this morning drained out of him as he shook with merriment.

“You sound like my mother”, he managed to blurt out between giggles. The comparison of this man, who managed to reduce men to tears with a couple of words, to his plump and loving mother seemed so absurd and yet they were almost the exact words his mother had told him countless times when he’d been home late from school.

Sherlock huffed and placed a steaming pot on the table.

“What is it?”, asked John, curious now. And, if he was perfectly honest, he was also a little worried. Sherlock liked experimenting and he wouldn’t put it past him to sneak some questionable substances in there in the name of science. 

“Coq au Vin, after my grandmother’s recipe”, Sherlock informed him, somewhat proudly. “And don’t worry John, it’s not poisoned.”

He gave John one of his rare genuine smiles and started putting chicken on his partner’s plate.

“What brought this on?” John asked while chewing on the delightful dish. It hadn’t been overcooked at all, it was so tender and moist he thought most professional chefs would be envious. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but you normally don’t even buy milk, so cooking seems very out of character for you.”

Sherlock made a non-committal humming noise and reached for John’s hand.

“How was your day?” He asked in a gentle purr that made butterflies flutter in John’s stomach. 

“It was…” John had been about to say good, but he didn’t want to lie to Sherlock. Besides, there wasn’t much point; his lover could deduce the real answer anyway. Suddenly, John realised what Sherlock was doing. He was putting him at ease, making sure he felt comfortable now after the agonising conversation in the morning. He felt a swell of affection for the man who was so awkward sometimes but who cared enough to spend hours in the kitchen just to make John feel better. He looked up into his lover’s verdigris eyes. 

“My day just got a whole lot better.” He said at last and smiled at Sherlock, who grinned back at him and gave his hand a little squeeze. 

They finished their dinner in silence, but for the first time that day, John didn’t feel uncomfortable. Sherlock cared for him; that much was obvious. So there was no need to worry, not really. Everything would be alright as long as they had each other.

Once they had finished eating, Sherlock took his hand again and lead him to the bedroom that had been Sherlock’s once but was now theirs. His anxiousness returned almost instantly. He didn’t want this to happen yet; they were having a good evening, couldn’t it just last a little longer? He wondered if he could put it off again, give Sherlock another time that would suit them both better, but he knew he was being ridiculous about it now. And he really wasn’t a coward, so he would face this the same way he faced everything else: bravely. 

When they reached the bedroom, Sherlock turned around and faced John, looking him up and down. Then he bent down and kissed the older man so gently, so sweetly that John melted into the touch. Long fingers stroked through John’s hair, down his back, pulling him into Sherlock’s warm embrace. 

There wasn’t a lot of passion in his touch, it was meant for comfort and John couldn’t help but revel in it. 

“I love you, John.” Sherlock breathed in his ear. “And I am so sorry you had a tense day because of me. I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

John’s breath stuttered. His partner had shown the sentiment several times, but he hadn’t actually voiced his feelings for John before. He suddenly felt giddy with joy and happiness.

“I love you too Sherlock!” He responded breathlessly. “God, I love you so much!”

Sherlock gave a low chuckle and pulled the shorter man in for another kiss.

“I know”, he rumbled between kisses. Now it was John’s turn to laugh and whisper “Arrogant git!” into the other man’s ear. 

They kissed a little while longer, still rather sweetly until Sherlock gently pushed him onto the bed and lay down next to him. The detective looked into John’s eyes and there was so much undisguised love there that he couldn’t help the smile creeping up his face. He still felt a little worried, but overshadowing it all was the immense happiness to be here, at this very moment with this wonderful man. 

“Why haven’t you been like this before?” John whispered, unwilling to disturb the moment with his voice. 

“Like what?”

“You’re suddenly gentle and loving and you seem to enjoy it, right?” He felt a little unsure now. What if Sherlock was just putting on a show to make him happy? He didn’t like that thought.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to be more affectionate.” Sherlock’s voice was a little unsteady, but he still smirked when John cocked an eyebrow. “You may think I’m an expert at this, but I’m really not, John. I have never had an actual relationship. Oh, I’m no virgin, I’ve had sex before, of course, but that was all that was ever required of me. I never wanted an entanglement with anybody else, so I left the moment the actual act was over. It just…” There was a very uncharacteristic pause. “It felt safer to use the same tactic that had worked for me before if that makes any sense. I might have been… uncomfortable of my own feelings regarding you.”

“You were scared.” John whispered, almost in awe.

Of course, Sherlock bristled at the very notion of being scared. “I said uncomfortable, not scared.” There was a little pout showing on his face and John hurried to placate him with a kiss.

“Thank you, Sherlock. Thank you for this. I was so worried about how this evening would turn out…” He snuggled closer to the taller man, who tightened his grip around him. John felt a warmth spread through his body. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this safe and protected.

Sherlock started talking again, his voice rumbling through John’s body. “You know, when you said that you needed to be held this morning, I realised something.”

John struggled in the other man’s grip to be able to see his face. The slanted eyes met his and Sherlock continued, as if reassured by the attention John was giving him.

“I needed it just as much. In fact I was desperate to feel you in my arms, just you, no agenda, no sex, just closeness. I’ve never had that before…” 

There was such tenderness in his eyes that John felt his eyes water slightly. This moment was just too perfect; it couldn’t be real, not with Sherlock. But the idea that somebody had made it into his mid-thirties without ever just being held horrified John at the same time. What about his family? Had he never snuggled up to Mycroft when he was little? His parents?

Sherlock scoffed. “If you are wondering if I’ve ever snuggled with my brother right now, you really are an idiot. Can you see Mycroft being physically affectionate with anybody?”

John laughed. Sometimes, Sherlock did seem to be able to read people’s mind. He let his own lips brush Sherlock’s gently then kissed up the other man’s sharp cheekbones, placing a soft kiss on each eyelid before finally kissing his forehead. Sherlock’s face relaxed under the touches of John’s lips and a sigh escaped his lips. 

“Do you know why I brought your kink up?”, Sherlock mumbled when John was nestled in his arms once more.

“I guess you were curious.” He answered, voice relaxed now. He was safe in Sherlock’s arms.

“Mhhhmmm..” the detective purred in assent, “But I had an ulterior motive.”

“Really?” John was curious now. What did the other man mean by that?

“Yes, really. John, I noticed that you enjoyed following my orders. Be it retrieving my mobile out of my coat pocket or sending a text on my command even though I could have easily done it myself. I knew these things and I hoped I was right by inferring that you may enjoy this sexually as well, but I wasn’t sure. It’s... well, to be honest, I brought up your kink because it seemed easier than just blurting out my own.”

There was silence for a moment, but it suddenly felt a little tense again. Was Sherlock saying what John thought he was saying? Or did he simply mean that he had another embarrassing kink that he wanted to withhold until John had owned up to his own fetish? 

Sherlock sighed. “Yes, John, I enjoy being dominant. And if you thought you had a stressful day, let me assure you that mine was equally so.”

His hands tightened around his lover for a moment, then he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You are worried because you think what you want is unnatural. What do you think this is like for me? People already think I’m a freak, but this, this just affirms it, doesn’t it? I love you, John, but I want to do things to you that really aren’t all that loving. I want to tie you up, fuck you until you beg… I want to hurt you, John. How can I do that? Why do I want to hurt you despite the fact that I love you? I’m a sociopath, that’s why…”

Sherlock sounded so distraught and unhappier than John had ever heard him before. He hugged the taller man tighter to himself. 

“Hush” He breathed into Sherlock’s ear, gently massaging his scalp. He couldn’t believe how this had turned from a really embarrassing night for him into this – comforting a distraught Sherlock. And yet somehow that made things a lot easier and he realised the other man must have done it on purpose. He had laid his own insecurities bare, offered himself up to make it easier for John. 

“Sherlock, love, it’s ok.” He continued gently. “A lot of people have kinks like that. Do you want to damage me permanently? Or against my will?”

The taller man shook his head. “No, John, you have to believe me, I’d never do that to you against your will, never!”

“Well then, what you’re talking about is consensual play. Which incidentally, as you correctly deduced this morning, I’m really keen on. I mean, I haven’t tried anything like that before, unless you count some silk scarves and tickling, but it’s always been my fantasy. I would like to try it with you.”

Suddenly, Sherlock was all over him, kissing him passionately. 

“I love you, John Watson. You ridiculous, wonderful, perfect man.”

And with a growled “Mine” he bit into John’s neck, sucking on the tender flesh to mark his territory.


End file.
